


What We More Affect

by tabulaxrasa



Series: Vessels [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Claire is Castiel's vessel, Claire sasses Satan, Claire sasses everyone, Claire's dads are losers, Found Family, Grace Sex, M/M, Season 11, TW: sexual harassment, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy, Vessel Dean, absolutely no sexing while Claire is the vessel, dadstiel, vessel sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaxrasa/pseuds/tabulaxrasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Awww, look at this," he said. "Team Free Will, now Satan's Minions."</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claire is Cas's vessel, Crowley's sulking in the basement, Sam's completely freaking out, Lucifer shows up whenever he wants, and Dean cannot keep any of this shit together: Team Defeat the Darkness, looking...like a typical Winchester plan.</p>
<p>(This verse is AU from before 11x14.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> You should definitely read the first two stories in this series first. They're short, we'll just wait here.
> 
> Title from Milton again; actually the second half of the line:  
>  _'O now in danger tri'd, now known in Arms,_  
>  _Not to be overpower'd, Companions dear,_  
>  _Found worthy not of Liberty alone,_  
>  _Too mean pretense, but what we more affect,_  
>  _Honour, Dominion, Glory, and renown..._ (Book VI, lines 417-423)
> 
>  
> 
> Updated note (5/12): Re-edited because AO3 still hates the amount of coding in this, a few other tiny typos caught, readjusted the summary to make it more of an actual, you know, summary.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rollin' on in: Team Defeat the Darkness arrives at the Bunker

The knocking on the door was relentless. Dean and Sam had fallen asleep in the library and Dean hurried to drag his ass up the stairs and pull open the door, angel blade in hand.

"What the hell do you want?" he said, disappointment adding sting to the words.

"Let me in," Crowley said. He was trying to say it like it was an order, but desperation was just cascading off him.

"What happened to you?" Dean folded his arms and leaned in the doorway to block it.

"Are you kidding? LUCIFER happened to me, you bloody-minded squirrel-brained halfwit. Now let me in," he twitched and sent a beautifully paranoid glance over his shoulder.

"You know Lucifer's been here, right?" Dean said. "He has a key." He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

Crowley sighed and rolled his eyes. "Of course he does. I'm sure it was a real RomCom moment—"

Sam came lumbering up the stairs. "Dean? Who is it? Oh." He blinked at Crowley. "What do you want?"

For a moment, Dean thought Crowley might explode. "You—" He got himself under control with heroic effort. "I have a message from Castiel."

Dean scowled. "Why the hell didn't you open with that?"

Crowley shrugged.

"Wait," Sam perked up like he'd smelled coffee. "Is that a _collar?_ "

Crowley immediately hunched in on himself again.

"Wow," Sam said, "It is." He was suddenly a lot more cheerful, and Dean was at least a bit more cheerful now himself.

"Oh, this should be good," Dean said.

"You gonna let me in, Rocky and Bullwinkle, or are you going to leave me out here for dear Luci to find?"

Sam snorted. Dean shrugged, but moved back. "Come on in, Boris."

~

"THAT'S the whole message?" Dean glared. "'Wait?' Does that even count as a message?"

Crowley shrugged. "He's an angel of few words, what can I say?"

That part was true enough. Dean took a long pull from his mug, which was coffee with a healthy shot of whiskey. Sam had forgone the shot, and Crowley had just gone straight for whiskey, which Dean hadn't even begrudged him too much because if anyone needed whiskey, it was Crowley right now.

Sam rubbed his hands over his face. "Okay, so what exactly has been going on in Hell?"

Crowley scowled, but it was more of a pout. "Lucifer is back. Obviously the throne is his by default."

"Sam," Dean sighed. He didn't want to do this, but… "go take a shower, man."

"What?" Sam gawped at him.

Dean jerked his head toward the door. Sam looked at him incredulously. Dean put a touch of dad into his expression. Sam snorted in disbelief, looked at Crowley, looked at Dean. "Seriously?"

Dean glared. "Fine," Sam huffed. "I'm going."

Crowley made a rude face at Sam's back. Dean kicked him under the table, but reached for the whiskey again. Crowley eagerly held out his mug and Dean topped him up before adding another slug or two to his own coffee.

"What's with the collar?" Dean asked.

"Lucifer," Crowley admitted. 

"No, really? I had no idea."

Crowley glared but muttered "The hellhounds. You know."

"Yeah. I do." 

"He chained me up _like a dog,_ Dean!" Crowley turned wide, pity-seeking eyes on him. Dean was a wall of granite.

Crowley huffed in disgust. "Underlings are worthless. He killed my mother, too."

"Huh." Dean thought about that. "Actually, I don't know how I feel about that."

"Neither do I," Crowley said miserably. He held out his mug for a refill, and Dean obliged. "I think I'm angry about it. _I_ wanted to kill her."

Dean nodded. He certainly wasn't going to miss Rowena, but she might have been useful, down the line.

Crowley had already explained that Castiel had let him go. "What's Lucifer going to do to Cas for this?" Dean took a drink. It was more whiskey than coffee now, which was fine by him.

"How should I know?" Crowley shrugged. "It won't be nice, though."

Dean put his face in his hands and rubbed hard, then did it again, because it put off having to deal with anything. "Fuck."

"Well said," Crowley muttered from behind his mug. "Castiel did make it sound like he had a plan, for what it's worth," he added, reluctantly. 

"But he'd have to get away from Lucifer? _How?_ "

"Has that twitchy angel you're so fond of ever explained anything he didn't absolutely have to? I have no bloody idea."

Dean brooded for a few minutes while they both drank. "All right," Dean sighed. "We wait. I don't like it, but I guess that's the plan."

"How long do we wait?" Crowley demanded. "Lucifer won't let Cas out anytime soon."

"Well, we don't exactly have another plan," Dean said. "Lucifer's kind of our Obi Wan Kenobi here, anyway."

"Balls," Crowley sighed.

"You said it," Dean said.

They waited until Sam came back— freshly showered, the giant nerd— and then Dean and Sam grabbed Crowley and dragged him to the dungeon.

"Are you kidding?" Crowley shouted. "Why would I leave? Where else am I going to go?"

"It's more like we don't want you getting into shit," Dean said.

"We have to keep an eye on you. Nothing personal." Sam's smirk made it clear it was definitely personal.

"Oh COME ON," Crowley wailed.

"We won't chain you up, just lock you in, how's that?" Dean said. "Unless you piss us off."

~~

They only stopped to get gas. _I want twinkies,_ Claire said, sleepy.

"We don't need to eat," Castiel said. "And I don't think those are real food, anyway."

 _Of course they're real food,_ Claire said. _You eat them, don't you?_

Castiel frowned. "I have read the list of ingredients in twinkies, Claire."

"Hey there, darlin'." Castiel ignored the loud man because obviously he wasn't the one being addressed.

"Need some help, little lady?" The large man was now leaning against the pump Castiel was at. Castiel looked around, but as they were the only ones at the gas station, it seemed unlikely the man was talking to anyone else.

"Clearly I do not," Castiel said. Claire wasn't sleepy anymore, but watchful. Castiel found that he did not like the way the man was looking him up and down. Looking _Claire_ up and down, Castiel realized, and _that_ sent a spark of fury through him.

"Late for a pretty little girl like you to be all out on your lonesome."

"I'm not tired," Castiel said. He returned the gasoline nozzle and closed the gas tank. The man hadn't moved. He was much bigger than Claire.

"Good night," Castiel said, and turned to walk the other way.

"Hey now, what's your rush?" the man put a hand on Castiel's shoulder. He could feel Claire flinch, even though she couldn't actually feel it.

Castiel removed the man's hand. As he did it, he made sure the man would not be able to use the hand for six to eight weeks.

"What the fuck! You crazy fucking bitch!" the man had collapsed to the ground and was cradling his hand.

"You should get that attended to by a physician," Castiel said. "Or it won't heal properly."

The man, eyes wide, crawled away, out of what he presumed to be Castiel's reach. "St-stay away from me."

Claire was delighted. _Shouldn'ta touched me! Take that, assface!_

Castiel got back in their car and started it. Claire was still gloating. _He'll think twice about grabbing anyone again. Good job, Cas._

Castiel basked a little in her praise— he couldn't seem to help it. Then something occurred to him which cooled any warm feelings. "Does that happen often?"

Claire shrugged. _I can take care of myself._

"What does that mean? Claire!"

 _It's just something women put up with,_ Claire said. _It happens all the time. At least I'm armed._

Castiel was in no way reassured by that. He felt a little sick to his stomach. It was bad enough that that happened to anyone, but the thought of it happening to Claire, when she really was on her own… Castiel thought about turning around and going back and—

 _Just drive, Cas,_ Claire said. _You taught him a lesson, I promise._

Castiel still felt unsettled and distressed, but Claire was settling down, nodding off, and he kept driving. 

~

Castiel found himself intensely nervous when he pulled up in front of the bunker. Lucifer had filled him in on what had passed between him and Dean and Castiel was horrified on several different levels. 

_What now?_ Claire poked at him, waking up. _Are we here?_

"Yes, we're here."

He had not thought about this part, because it wasn't important. Or at least, not as important as defeating Amara, stopping Lucifer, saving the world, etc. But suddenly it seemed hugely, impossibly important.

_Cas, what's going on?_

"I'm afraid," he admitted. "Lucifer…hurt Dean, the last time he was here."

 _But he knows it wasn't you,_ she said, sensibly.

He did not know how to explain to her that Lucifer throwing Dean into walls was the least of how he'd hurt him. Dean didn't _mind_ that, not really. But Lucifer had said…he'd _told_ him.

And now Castiel had to go in there and…act like it hadn't happened, probably. That was usually what they did. For some reason, that only made Castiel unhappier.

 _You guys are so dumb,_ Claire said, and Castiel didn't argue. _Let's just go in, okay? It'll be awkward for everyone. Especially me._

So Castiel got out of the car and knocked on the door. He didn't have a key now, Lucifer had his, and he burned with annoyance at that.

Dean opened the door. He blinked. He did not look well-rested, but he so rarely did. He was unshaven and his clothing was placed haphazardly, like he'd just thrown them on. Castiel's heart skipped a beat.

 _Oh my god,_ Claire said.

"Claire?" Dean said.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said.

Dean stared at him. "No," he said. " _Cas._ "

Castiel felt his shoulders slump. "I hate this, Dean. I didn't have a choice—"

"What the hell happened?"

"Lucifer ejected me from my vessel. I have to have a vessel on earth. Claire is the only—"

"Where's Claire?"

"Right here, of course," Castiel frowned. "She is present and listening."

_I'm trying not to. You guys are such losers._

"She says we're losers," Castiel reported.

Dean's mouth twitched. "Well. She's not wrong. Are you okay?"

Castiel thought for a moment. "I've been better."

Dean huffed, but the smile was still hovering around his mouth.

 _Stop staring at his mouth!_ Claire shrieked at him. _I am so traumatized._

"Are you all right, Dean?" Cas asked, ignoring Claire. "I know Lucifer—" he immediately regretted bringing it up. Dean looked down.

"He healed me," Dean said shortly. "So I'm fine."

He wasn't, but Castiel didn't know what to do, or say. "Dean," he started, and it got Dean to look at him again, at least, but Castiel was not equipped for this conversation.

"You better come in," Dean said, stepping aside so Castiel could enter. "And dude. Stopping looking at me that. While you're…" he gestured vaguely at Castiel's borrowed vessel. "It's weird."

"I don't know how else to look at you," Castiel said.

 _No shit, Sherlock,_ Claire said.

~~

"Ho ho, the gang's all here," Dean announced, stomping into the kitchen. Cas and Claire— Cas-Claire?… Dean had no idea how to think of them— trailing behind. 

Sam was in the kitchen, surrounded by a stack of books, and eating a sandwich.

"Hey, Claire!"

"And Cas," Dean said. He watched Sam's eyes go wide.

"Oh crap."

"Yep."

"Hello Sam."

Claire— Cas— made a weird face. "You do not need a sandwich, Claire." Then he looked even more exasperated. Dean hid a smile. This was a million miles from ideal, but at least they were all _here._

"I can make her a sandwich," Dean offered.

Cas rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Cas— Claire?— swayed a little and then blinked a lot, looking woozy. "Wow, that's weird."

"Claire?" Sam guessed. 

"Yeah. He says I don't need to but I can eat if I want."

"Sit down," Dean said. "Turkey or ham?"

"Both."

Dean nodded in approval and set to making her a sandwich.

"Are you okay in there, Claire?" Sam asked.

Dean almost snapped "What the hell does that mean?" but he bit his tongue as Claire nodded.

"He wouldn't let me eat twinkies but other than that, it's okay. He showed up at my room as an _owl,_ guys."

Dean turned around. "What."

"I know! Don't worry, there are pictures. Now he's being embarrassed about it, but whatever, I had to sit through whatever that was upstairs, so I don't care."

"What?" Sam said immediately, the little bitch. "What happened upstairs?"

"Nothing," Claire said, and Dean almost forgave her. "Just freaks being freaks. Also Cas was _really_ nervous about coming in, like really. What did Lucifer say to you?"

Dean, to be spiteful, put a ton of lettuce on her sandwich and forgot the cheese. He dropped the plate in front of her. "Never mind," he said, pulling out full dad voice.

"Dean," Sam said. Aww, shit.

"Nothing, Sammy. Just the usual bullshit."

Dean didn't flee the room, or if he did, he was sure it didn't look like that. Sam followed anyway, because he was a nosy little brat. "Dean," Sam said seriously, "you know you can't listen to anything Lucifer says to you."

"I know," Dean between his teeth. He did. He knew. He just couldn't stop hearing it. _You didn't even notice he was gone. You've broken everyone who's ever loved you. You're the worst thing that's ever happened to him. He's so in lo—_

"Dean," Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder, which meant this was Serious Business. "Don't listen to Lucifer."

"Jesus, I _know_ Sam, all right—"

"No, listen, just…whatever he said, he did it to hurt you. To mess with your head. He may not outright lie, but he sure isn't truthful either, okay? Just… talk with Cas about it instead, okay? Or me. Or anyone."

Dean gave a tight nod and tried to push the whole thing out of his mind. The thing was, he _did_ want to talk to Cas. There were at least a few things he wanted to clear up, and he did want to apologize. And as for the other things…

"Dean?"

It was Claire— no, it was Cas.

"Did you at least let her finish her sandwich?" he asked.

Cas's guilty look was answer enough. 

Dean sighed. "Let her eat first at least, okay?"

Cas nodded and went back to the kitchen. Sam shot Dean an annoyed look which was _totally uncalled for, what the fuck,_ and headed back to the kitchen too.

Dean stayed in the library, and he was not sulking.

~~

Cas was a bundle of nerves, which was apparently annoying to Claire. "Why isn't there any cheese?" she said. "Also, what are you afraid of? It's not like he's going to throw you out."

Castiel hadn't been afraid of that _before. It wouldn't be the first time,_ he admitted.

"What, seriously?"

Castiel winced and regretted mentioning it. It hadn't been Dean's choice, not really, and Castiel had forgiven him for it, but it still hurt.

"This is some kind of crazy soap opera," Claire said. She ate her sandwich for a bit. "What did Lucifer say to him?"

 _Things about me that I wish he had not said,_ Castiel growled. 

"Okay, whatever. I'm gonna find out about it in a minute."

Castiel felt sick and sort of huddled in on himself. He would apologize to Dean and tell him…what? That it wasn't true? 

"Okay," Claire said. "I'm done." She was surprisingly gentle about it.

Castiel nodded and resumed control. He found Dean still in the library. "I'm sorry," he said.

"What?" Dean jumped. "I— wait, why are you apologizing? Cas, you didn't do anything wrong. Except for maybe _saying yes to Lucifer._ "

"What Lucifer said…it's not true."

Dean went pale. "Uh, I…"

"Dean... you are not the worst thing that's ever happened to me. Far from it."

"Except that one's true, isn't it?" Dean said. He slammed his book shut and stood up. "Look, I need to apologize to you."

Cas was nonplussed. "What? What for?"

Dean looked miserable, and took a few steps closer. "Cas," he said, voice low, "for before. When you were here before. And I…look, Cas, you were in pain and I ignored you, okay? That was shitty, and I'm sorry."

Cas frowned, at a loss. "I wasn't injured."

"Cas! You're…you're not supposed to feel that unhappy, okay? It's not normal, it's not right. I'm used to it, but that's a _bad thing,_ Cas, get it?" Dean sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. 

_Hurt isn't just injured,_ Claire said. _Were you depressed? That's a kind of illness too, you know._

"Everything's a shit show. Everything's always a shit show, with us, but that doesn't mean… it's not right. And…I'll try to fix it. I don't know what's gonna happen, with the Darkness, with Lucifer, but…" He looked Cas in the eye. "I'll do better. But you have to try too, okay? I know I've…taught you, I guess, that how you feel doesn't matter, but that's bullshit and I'm sorry for that, too. It does matter. I know I'm the last person who should be saying this, but you have to talk to me about how you're feeling. Tell me when I'm being too much of a dick. _Tell me_ if you're unhappy, or hurt. I can't…" he sighed. "I want you to be happy. Or as close as we can get." Dean's voice was soft the way it was when it was only the two of them. Perhaps Dean had forgotten about Claire. "Deal?"

"Deal," Castiel said, although truthfully he still had no idea what was going on. 

_It means he's in love with you too, dummy,_ Claire said.

Castiel tried to deny this, and then decided just to ignore her. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Dean," he said. Dean went kind of red in the face. Castiel wanted to touch him so badly, just a hand on his arm… he took a step closer, put a hand on the shoulder where he'd once laid a hand to raise Dean from Hell. "What Lucifer said…" 

"Ok, sorry, no, we have to stop there," Dean took a few steps back. "We are not having this talk while you're in Claire. Just. No. I can put up with a lot of weird shit, but not that."

 _Finally, one of you has some fucking common sense,_ Claire said.

~~

Lucifer's angry birds game was interrupted by an incoming call. _Sam_ the phone said, and Lucifer let it ring for a long time, considering. He finally accepted the call. "Hello, dear."

"We need to talk." Sam's voice was wound tight, and Lucifer luxuriated in the stress behind it.

"Now, what could we possibly have to talk about, Sammy?"

"We wanted to go over the plan. You know, for defeating Amara? Cas said you had one, so we need to—"

"So little Castiel managed to crawl his way back to you, huh? Again." Lucifer sat up straight. "Wait a minute. How exactly is he talking to you? What vessel is he using?"

"That's, ah— look, don't worry about it..."

"Seriously?" Lucifer asked.

Sam was engaged in a long silent struggle. "It doesn't matter," he finally said. "We can just—"

"I'm coming over," Lucifer announced. It might have actually been the first time he'd ever said those words in that order. Usually he just arrived. 

"No! Don't, that's why I called—"

~~

"Oh, real good job Sam," Dean said when Sam hung up.

"What do you want me to do?" Sam snapped. "He's Satan, he's not exactly into phone etiquette."

Upstairs, the door swung open. Dean looked outraged. "Because he had already been expelled from Heaven, Lucifer hasn't lost his wings," Cas said glumly. "I'm not sure the spell would have worked on archangels, anyway."

"Honey, I'm home!" Lucifer called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed and left kudos. <3 Sorry this took so long, it's been a busy and difficult week.
> 
> I'm almost done with Chapter 2, but I'll be traveling this weekend so I probably won't get the chance to finish it and get it up until Monday. But you never know, I'll try.


	2. Team Defeat the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made and remade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little out of control, so I ended up splitting it into two.

"I would like to go back to the dungeon now, please," Crowley whispered. His knuckles on the table were white.

Lucifer was already tromping down the stairs, whistling.

"Too late," Dean growled. "Just shut up and maybe he won't notice you."

"You found my dog!" was the first thing Lucifer said when he strolled into the library.

Crowley shot Dean an agonized look, but Dean was too busy remembering the last time he'd been in this room with Lucifer.

Lucifer was ignoring him, though, at least for now. "And what's this?" his eyes— the same color as Cas's but otherwise nothing like his— were fixed on Cas. "You had a backup vessel and didn't share, Castiel?"

"Unless you want to vacate Cas's vessel and fuck off back to Hell, I don't think Cas's current vessel is any of your business," Dean said. He tried not to make it too defensive— the last thing they wanted to do was give away how important Claire was to them.

"How are you doing in there, anyway?" Sam asked sharply. "You don't look like you're falling apart."

Lucifer fluttered his eyelashes at Dean, and then blew a kiss at Sam. "This vessel, though not my own," he said with a significant, and kind of dirty, look at Sam, "was still made by God exclusively for an angel's use, so it holds up better than a normal, not perfect, human vessel does." 

"That doesn't mean it will hold up indefinitely," Cas said.

"No," Lucifer agreed. "I'm not sure how long I'll be able to keep this one together, but it's no trouble yet. Thanks, Castiel. And dad, I guess."

"That's so reassuring," Crowley muttered. He was a sarcastic bitch as usual, but Dean really was kind of reassured. At least Cas had something to go back to.

"You're here to explain your plan," Cas said.

Lucifer shrugged, then made himself extravagantly comfortable in a chair at the head of the table. "Awww, look at this," he said. "Team Free Will, now Satan's Minions."

"The basics of your plan remain unchanged?" Cas asked. 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "My, Castiel, you've been a busy little bee. I really should have locked you up instead of throwing you out. I almost wonder why I bother coming at all." He looked at Sam and smiled. Sam cringed, reflexively. "Oh, right," Lucifer said. "That's why."

"Hey," Dean slammed his hand on the table, but the only one who jumped was Sam, so then he felt guilty about it. "How about less dumb pointless shit and more work. Otherwise feel free to leave."

Lucifer turned his head to the side to look at Dean, a mockery of Cas's early confused angel behavior. Close enough, and wrong enough, to make something catch in Dean's throat. "Nope," he said, drawing out the word as he shifted his gaze to Castiel. "Still don't see what you see in him."

Cas was trying to full-out poker face this, and the stiffness looked strange on Claire.

Dean ignored it, like he'd ignored a hundred other comments. "You gonna give us the run down or what?"

Lucifer smiled, and it looked all wrong on that face. "Sure. Why not. They say the devil's in the details."

Sam shot Dean a _You see what I had to put up with?_ look. Dean grimaced back in sympathy. On the other side of Cas, Crowley sighed.

"You guys are the worst," Lucifer said. "You're so boring. Fine. Deano, you're the only one Amara will let get close to her, so you've got to be the bait."

"I can't—"

"You just have to distract her, okay? I'll kill her. As soon as I find something with enough firepower."

"How do I distract her?"

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Aren't you hunters? Figure it out."

"How are you going to…get rid of her?" Sam asked. He sounded a little shaky, and a lot like he was trying to hide it. Sitting next to Lucifer couldn't be fun for him.

"Let me worry about that, Sammy boy."

"Any plan to kill the Darkness— if it can be killed— would be more certain of success if Dean was the one to deal the fatal blow," Cas insisted.

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "I can't— I can't move," he muttered at the table. "When she's there."

"Well, there you go," Lucifer said. "So you bat your eyes and keep her focus on you and I'll do the thing. Whatever it is."

There was a very uncomfortable silence.

"Do you have the First Blade?" Lucifer asked suddenly. "You must have had it at one point."

Dean and Sam and Cas exchanged eloquent looks. Crowley sent them all a glare that said _If you don't tell him, I will._ Guess he was still sore over that one.

"I have access to it," Cas said carefully. 

"Can the Blade kill Amara?" Dean asked, feeling sharp and fragile all at once, the way he was used to feeling about the Blade.

Lucifer made a stupid face and waved his hand to indicate "eh."

"It can hurt her, anyway," he said. "In my hands, it can hurt her _a lot._ "

"Will it be enough?" Sam's tone was sharp-- of them all, he was the most used to dealing with the devil.

"For what I have in mind, yes."

~

Lucifer stayed long enough to hammer out the plan, then insulted everyone and left. 

"Is he really gone?" Sam didn't look good, pale and sweaty and exhausted.

"Christ, I hope so," Dean said. "Look, we can wrap up for tonight…"

"No," Crowley said. "Now we have to make the actual plan, idiots."

"We can do it tomorrow," Dean snapped.

"Sure, fine, unless Lucifer finds Amara tonight."

"That's not gonna happen."

"Right," Crowley said. "Because things always go our way."

"Those of us who need to sleep may sleep," Cas said, "and those of us who don't…" he looked at Crowley.

"Oh no," Dean said. "The two of you alone will end up destroying the library when you decide to start killing each other, and I am goddamn tired of my home being trashed. So no, not gonna happen."

"Fine," Crowley threw up his hands. "Let's wait around with our thumbs up our asses like—" 

Between Dean, Sam, and Cas, it was no trouble at all to lock Crowley in the basement.

~~

It was boring being a vessel. Cas wasn't passing on all her hilarious one-liners, she didn't really want to eat any more, and that whole hanging out with demons thing kind of freaked her out. She slept, on and off, but at weird times. Claire didn't really do anything, so there wasn't a lot to make her tired. Cas had made her sleep through the meeting with Lucifer, and she was still kind of disappointed she didn't get to meet Satan, but mostly relieved.

And everyone else sure could argue.

"I can't kill Amara," Dean said, teeth gritted, glaring at the table. "I'd love to, believe me, but I don't think it's going to happen."

"If you can put the hex mark on her," Sam said, "then someone else, one of us…"

"She'll kill you," Dean said flatly. "She'll kill anyone except for me."

"She can't kill you, correct?" Claire was always startled when she heard her own voice, low and growly and Cas-ified, speaking without her permission. "She can't kill you or harm you any more than you can harm her."

"I guess," Dean didn't sound nearly certain enough, in Claire's opinion.

"Dean," Cas said slowly, "you won't like it, but I do have a plan."

"Then lay it on us."

For a moment, Claire was weirded out by everyone staring at her, before she remembered they weren't really looking at her. Cas sent a little pulse of something soothing and reassuring at her, like a little pat. She tried to bat it off and not reveal how nice it actually was.

Cas's regard, of course, settled on Dean. "Lucifer wants to carve a binding sigil into her, but destroying the sigil she already carries-- the one that mirrors the Mark of Cain-- would be even more effective. We need a way to get someone close to Amara without being hurt so they can destroy that mark. It can't be you because you can't hurt her. We need to use you, Dean, to hide someone else, someone who _can_ hurt her. Use you to get them close to her."

"Hide?" he looked confused, and Claire watched, because Castiel watched, as understanding spread through him. 

"I'm sorry," Cas said. "I know you won't like it, but…"

"You," Dean said, clearly struggling. "As long as it's you."

"Wow," Crowley said. "So... you're engaged now?"

Cas was distinctly smug in Crowley's direction.

_What's that?_ Claire poked at Cas. _Are you guys fighting over Dean or something?_ God, she hoped not, that was like horrific.

_**Never mind,**_ Cas said. Oh god, they totally were.

_Will this even work?_ Claire asked. _Don't you have to have a special, specific vessel?_

"It's only for a short time," Cas said, out loud. His heart— her heart— was pounding. Just for Claire, in the privacy of their head, he said _**Dean is the Michael Sword. He's made to hold something much more powerful than me.**_

"Right," Dean said faintly. "And how do we get Lucifer out of your vessel?"

"I think Amara may take care of that for us," Cas said. "But if she doesn't, one of you must be prepared with the banishing sigil."

_What will happen to you, won't you get banished too?_

_**Yes,**_ Castiel said, and Claire realized she'd been letting off some distress, because Cas curled something warm and gentle around her, almost like a wing. _**But I will find my way back, just as I did before.**_

~~

"You really want to do this now?" Sam said.

"We need to practice, right Cas?" Dean looked at Cas, who nodded. "So there's no reason Claire has to stay a vessel."

Sam gave in at that, as Dean knew he would. Dean turned to go into his room, sweeping Cas in with him. Sam tried to follow, but Cas sent a slightly distressed look at Dean so Dean pushed Sam out.

"Seriously?" Sam said.

"Just wait outside for a minute, Sammy." Truthfully, Dean didn't want Sam watching this, either. He shut the door firmly and faced Cas. Cas was giving him the big droopy blue eyes, and this might actually be easier if Jimmy Novak and Claire hadn't had the same eyes.

"You're the only one I will ever say this to," Dean said, the words as much a way to reassure himself as a promise to Cas. "Yes."

Claire started to glow. Dean didn't look away, even when it stung his eyes. Great swirling white light flooded out of her and into the air. _That's Cas,_ Dean told himself, and still almost couldn't believe it.

But the light, the grace, Cas, barreled toward him and the first touch was _familiar._

And then the light was gone although Dean could _feel_ Cas inside him, all around him, like the world's strongest shot of whiskey. He watched his hand raise, completely out of his control. It was weird as fuck. 

_**Hello Dean,**_ Cas said, and it was gentle while being unmistakable heat and power; like lightning, and only a little like being chained to a comet.

_Hey, Cas,_ he said, breathless even without needing to breathe.

"Are you all right, Claire?" Dean felt his head turn and his gaze fix on Claire. He could also feel what Cas felt for Claire, a warm burst of concern and affection and desperate responsibility. 

_Nerd,_ Dean thought, full of affection himself, before realizing that this sharing feelings thing was probably a two way street.

_Crap._

Cas checked that Claire was fine and she eyed him— them— and left to go get some sleep.

Sam barged in as soon as Claire left. "We're fine, Sam," Cas said.

"This is weird," Sam said, staring at them. "Just. So weird. Like, it's definitely you in there. Cas, I mean."

_Yeah, yeah,_ Dean said. _At least you're watching someone in our family wear me like a cheap suit and not, say, Satan._

_**You're not a cheap suit, Dean,**_ Cas replied. _**On the contrary, you require rather elaborate maintenance.**_

Dean was shocked silent for a few long seconds that felt more like hours before a whiff of amusement curled out from Cas and wrapped around him.

_You're fucking with me,_ Dean said.

_**Yes.** _

Dean was, again, at a loss for words.

"Do you want to talk to Dean, Sam?" Cas asked out loud.

Sam eyed them. "I don't know," he said. "Do I?"

_That little bitch!_ Dean glared, but without eyes or a body it wasn't terribly effective or cathartic.

"Probably not," Cas said. They shared a smirk at his expense, and Dean sent waves of annoyance at both of them.

_Good night, Sam,_ Dean thought at him fiercely.

"He says good night, Sam," Cas reported. 

~

Dean lay in the dark, feeling really not alone but somehow it was okay. It was almost like Cas was laying next to him on the bed, but Dean could feel him wrapped around inside him instead of over him. 

He could feel Cas inside him— fucking hell, what a thing to think— like a warm, gently buzzing presence everywhere. Soothing in his head, warm down his arms, double wrapped around his heart. Places Dean never thought about, like the tops of his feet. Cas, everywhere. (And yes, his dick, but Dean was really, really trying not to think about Cas and his dick in close proximity.)

Cas was probably in there healing whatever he wanted, the sneaky bastard. Cleaning out Dean's arteries, healing all that hard-earned liver damage.

_**Yes,**_ Cas said. _**But I always do that.**_ Smug bastard.

Dean knew he was smiling, but there was no else to see it, technically. Dean felt good— actually, he couldn't remember the last time he felt this good. _I didn't think it would feel like this,_ he said.

_**It usually wouldn't,**_ Cas admitted. _**I am... trying to be careful.**_

Dean relaxed into the buzzing warmth, which felt safe and more than a bit familiar, like a half-remembered dream.

_**Yes,**_ Cas said, and they weren't even talking, not really, but it still felt like Cas was whispering into his ear. _**This is how I carried you from Hell.**_

After a few moments, Cas added, _**I was so pleased it was me.**_

_Dunno if I've ever told you this, Cas, but I'm pleased it was you, too._

The buzzing picked up in response to this, but it was a nice kind of buzzing, like Magic Fingers. 

_Dork,_ Dean laughed. _What, did you think I'd rather have been raised by Zachariah?_

_**He didn't even go,**_ Cas replied.

_What an asshole!_ And then they were trading memories, making each other laugh, and it had been years since they'd done this. _I missed you,_ Dean thought, on accident, but didn't try to take it back.

_**I missed you too. How can we have lived so close together and so far apart?** _

Dean sent a wave of remorse at him. It was easier, this way, because he didn't have to find words. He didn't exactly have actions, but there was no way to misinterpret anything like this.

_I notice if you're gone,_ Dean insisted. _I always notice._

Cas sent a soothing wave around him, like a caress to the head. _**Put Lucifer's words from your mind.**_

_No._ Even Dean was surprised by his own vehemence. _Lucifer wouldn't have such an easy time twisting us into knots if we didn't do most of the work for him._ He finished it off with a wave of guilt and remorse, since he was definitely kind of the frontman for emotional repression and keeping secrets.

Cas, of course, tried to comfort him, reassure him, but Dean pushed it away. _We've both fucked up a lot, and we'll probably still fuck up a lot, but we can at least start from the same place._

But now Dean was struggling, lost. Cas was being patient, but Dean had never been here before. _I don't know how to do this,_ he admitted.

_**I wish he hadn't told you all of that,**_ Cas said. _**I wish I'd been able to stop him.**_

_Not your fault,_ Dean said. _Any of it._

_**A lot of things are my fault,**_ Cas said.

Dean sighed, but it felt strange to sigh without any lungs. 

_**Sorry,**_ Cas whispered.

_Also not your fault._

_**If you're tired, you can go to sleep,**_ Cas said. _**I can go get the First Blade. I can go and return tomorrow.**_

Dean hesitated— his feelings about the First Blade were obviously complex, and none of them were good. He didn't even like knowing it had been so close to him.

_**I can put you to sleep when I retrieve it,**_ Cas offered. _**So you don't have to see it.**_

Dean let his gratitude speak for him.


	3. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Claire run an errand, and Dean and Cas finally have that talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second chapter posted today.
> 
> Also there's porn.

"Dean? Cas?" Sam squinted at them when Cas walked into the kitchen.

"Cas."

"Hey. So, uh, everything going okay?"

"I'm going to go retrieve the First Blade while Dean's asleep," Cas explained.

Sam lit up, and Cas knew Sam had considered the same problems he had with having Dean around the Blade again. 

"Okay. Do you need someone to go with you?"

Cas frowned. "You can't come, Sam. I will not leave Claire alone with Crowley."

Sam frowned. "Yeah, no, bad idea."

"I'll go with you." Claire had snuck up behind him. 

"I thought you went to sleep," Cas frowned at her. She looked like she needed to rest.

"I didn't. Where are we going?" 

Sam wanted to hear the answer too, so Cas, after a bit of awkward shuffling, said "…Stull Cemetery."

"Seriously?" Sam said.

Cas shrugged. "It seemed like a place Dean was likely to avoid under almost any circumstances."

"Huh," Sam said. "Fair point."

"What's Stull Cemetery?" Claire asked.

"The place I died," Sam said.

Claire stared at him. "Your life. So are you, like, a zombie?"

"Not anymore," Sam answered seriously.

Claire gave him a suspicious look, like she thought he was teasing her.

"It's _one of_ the places where I died," Sam corrected himself.

Cas sighed, and Claire made a face like everyone was being unreasonable. "Well, I'm going with you," she said. "You might need backup."

"Claire," Cas frowned at her, turning to face her directly. "You would be safer here, and I assure you, the trip is quick and quite safe. I'm not anticipating any difficulty."

"Then you won't mind me tagging along because I won't be in any danger," Claire said. 

"You need to rest," Cas said.

"I'll sleep in the car," she shrugged. "I'll be ready in five." But she didn't immediately run off. "For the record," she informed him, "you should've let Dean handle this. He's Mean Dad and you're totally Pushover Dad."

Sam experienced a sudden loud, violent coughing fit, but waved Cas away when he asked if he was all right.

~

Stull Cemetery was quiet. Cas didn't like being here either, but there really was no trace of any angelic presence here other than his own. He brushed against Dean's soul, assuring himself that Dean was fine, still asleep, and tucked far away.

"Did Sam really die here?" Claire asked.

"He jumped into the Cage— into Hell— while Lucifer's vessel."

"Wow," Claire said. "You guys sure get around."

"We were stopping the apocalypse."

"I know. I remember that part."

There was nothing else to say, so they got out of Cas's car. His Continental had been waiting for him at the Bunker, but he hadn't inquired about who had brought it there. Claire had been as rude about the car as Sam.

It was strange to be in Dean, and an adjustment after getting used to Claire. Castiel tried not to think about it too much.

He had hidden the First Blade on the far side, under the headstone of a grave with an inscription that had long since worn into illegibility. Claire was armed with a revolver and Ruby's knife, borrowed from Sam. She stood over him, keeping an eye out for demons, angels, and civilians as Cas easily lifted the headstone and reached into the dirt.

The knife almost leapt into his hand, and he wondered if the Blade recognized this hand.

Cas took care to replace the headstone exactly, and silently thanked the soul whose remains occupied this grave, now almost completely returned to earth.

"That's it? I thought it would be… you know, a knife. Or bigger."

"This is it." Cas regarded the thing grimly. The nausea he felt from looking at it was familiar. Cas did not want to tuck in his waistband the way Dean had; did not want it to touch any more of Dean's skin than it had to. "It's time to go."

~~

Dean woke up back in his room, feeling more well-rested than he could remember being in…possibly ever. _Cas?_

_**Hello, Dean.** _

_Did you already get it?_

_**I did.** _

Dean swallowed, or tried to, but without control over his throat nothing happened. _How'd it go?_

Cas filled him in in little bits and pieces of memory. The First Blade was here, in the Bunker, but not in the room.

_**I would rather keep it away from you,**_ Cas admitted ruefully.

_I'd rather it be kept far away from me, so sounds like a plan. What time is it?_

_**11 am. Sam and Claire have gone food shopping.** _

_So it's just you and me, huh?_

_**Crowley's probably awake.** _ Cas's tone or the burst of feelings made it clear what Cas thought about that, and Dean laughed in response. 

_We'll leave him where he is._

Dean and Cas lay in the dark, quiet for a moment. Dean wouldn't say he was getting used to having Cas with him like this, but it was a welcome thrill, like sliding behind the wheel of his Baby. Kind of a lot like that, actually.

_**Did you sleep well, Dean?** _

_Yeah. Thanks, Cas._

It felt a little different now, pressure, or tension, building up. Nerves, Dean realized. This was Cas being nervous, and there was probably nothing good about that.

_**You wanted to talk,** _ Cas reminded him. _**About what Lucifer said to you.** _

Dean immediately felt queasy in his non-existent stomach. _I wanted to talk? That doesn't sound like me._

_**Indeed,** _ Cas said, rather ominously. 

But Dean's curiosity was battering at them both, and he had no way to hide it. _I need to know what was true, and what wasn't._

_**Must you?** _ Cas sighed, but Dean already felt his resignation. His fear. _**Perhaps we should wait for a less intense situation.** _

On one hand, Dean appreciated the out. On the other, he knew that if he took that out, this conversation would never happen. Here, like this, they had to be honest with each other. And he was curious, maybe morbidly so, about what Cas was so afraid of.

_I knew something was wrong with you,_ Dean began. _And I knew you were gone. So that was bullshit._

_**You haven't broken those of us who love you, Dean. That was also bullshit.** _

Dean kept a guilty silence about that.

_**Dean,** _ came the exasperated reply, _**I assure you we are all capable of breaking ourselves.** _

Dean gave in to his amusement, grim though it was, and let Cas know he was giving way on that. For now.

_**You are not the worst thing that's ever happened to me, Dean. Before you…my existence was long, but it was ultimately meaningless. Even if I was…disruptive, or rebellious before, I was reprogrammed and never knew it. I was never able to break through it. Not until you.** _

Cas was unbearably fond when he thought of Dean, and there was no way for Dean to escape it, or joke it off. He had to face it, let it wash over him, fill him up.

_**You are the only thing that has ever broken Heaven's programming, Dean. Before, I existed, but you showed me how to live.** _

Dean was not that good, and Lucifer's cutting words made a lot more sense than Castiel's warm praise. But he couldn't deny it, either. He knew it was true, had seen the effect himself over the years. Cas now was so much more human. He didn't seem happier for it, though.

_"I used to belong to a better club."_ That 2014 never came to pass, but Dean had never been able to shake that specter of miserable, human Cas, willingly going off to die just because Dean told him to. 

_**I don't know what this is,**_ Cas frowned, _**but it's not true and never could be.** _

_It could've been true, Cas. You don't know…_

_**It can't be true NOW,**_ Cas said, so firmly Dean knew there was no convincing him. And maybe he was right. Cas did fall, Cas did live as a human, and he was still here, and not drugged off his head and having orgies. That Dean knew about, anyway. 

_**What?** _

_Zachariah's fault. It's…not important now, you're right._

Cas wrapped his grace around Dean more tightly, protective and a little possessive, and Dean can't say he minded it. In fact, he maybe pushed a little into it, that sparking, tingling fire, like pop rocks going off. But he definitely didn't snuggle into it, and he would swear that in a court of law.

_If I'm so important to you, Cas, you have to know…this self-sacrificing shit? I hate it. Offering to be Lucifer's vessel? What the fuck were you thinking?_

_**That I had a better chance of surviving hosting Lucifer than either you or Sam. And in any event, that I was an acceptable loss.** _

Dean really, really didn't like that. _You're not an "acceptable loss" Cas! Not ever. Not to me. I've told you, man, I…I need you. Not because of your mojo or anything else, I just. Need you._

He had no way to hide the anguish he felt at the idea of losing Cas, so for once he didn't try. _You think you don't deserve to be saved. What the hell have I done to you?_

_**Everything I've done,**_ Cas struggled out, _**I tried to do what was best for you.** _

_What's best for me,_ Dean said, because he couldn't seem to stop himself, _is you._

So that was more than a little terrifying, and he felt shock from Cas and not much else. Gradually edging into wonder, now. If Dean was in control of his body, his hands would be shaking. 

There was only one more question Lucifer left hanging over him, and Dean was afraid this one was the one that was true. And he was also afraid it wasn't, so screwed either way. 

_**Lucifer spun lies only you would believe,**_ Cas said, both fond and exasperated. Dean was starting to worry that Cas thought of him as a very dumb puppy. _**They may be true from a certain point of view, but it's not mine. And it shouldn't be yours.**_

_**Also you are not a dumb puppy.** _

Well, that wasn't embarrassing. 

Dean was struggling to find the right words, but the whole being a vessel thing meant he had no filter, and before he could worry about words, the feelings went out and asked the question for him. 

_**I loved you,**_ Castiel answered, _**from the moment I laid eyes on you Hell. But it took me a long time to understand what it meant.**_ And he sort of increased the warmth surrounding Dean's soul, or whatever he was right now, and Dean understood that that's what the warmth _was_ — love. 

_Oh._

There was no way to control his response, so he didn't even try. 

_**You're…happy?** _

_Of course I'm happy, you idiot._ He had a suspicion that he'd be crying if he was in control of his tear ducts right now. _Lucifer said you were…and that I was indifferent. Cas, man, I've never been indifferent._

Dean shared memories that were no longer bitter with what he'd thought of as his stupidity: after he'd found Cas in Purgatory, when Cas had come back after Purgatory and wanted to be a hunter, driving human Cas back to the bunker. All the times Dean had been thinking: _Maybe this time, this time he'll stay, I can keep him, he's mine._

Cas was alternating waves of gratitude and excitement and devastating remorse, and then a nearly crushing wave of grace, wrapping Dean up tightly. _**Mine.**_

_Yeah, that's kind of the deal._

They lay wrapped tightly together for a long time, or at least it felt that way. Dean was slowly getting used to the idea that this was actually happening— that it had happened, that he'd confessed his feelings, that Cas _knew_ and the world hadn't ended. 

_**Watch this,**_ Cas said with a little flutter, and then suddenly Dean's body was Dean's again. 

"Cas!" he called, panicked, and then felt the brush of Cas's grace. 

_**I'm right here. Relax. I want to try something.** _

Dean felt something against his lips. He raised a hand but there was nothing there, and Cas was humming with satisfaction. 

"That was you?" 

Cas didn't bother to answer: he just did it again. _**The human brain is a very powerful organ,**_ Cas kind of explained. _**And it's fairly easy to trick.**_

Cas was able to fool Dean's brain almost completely into believing in a brush of lips against Dean's neck, like a really good fantasy, half a dream. If Dean kept his eyes closed it was easy to pretend Cas was there, kissing under his jaw, on his chin, his eyes. 

Cas began to tweak Dean's nerves, here and there, all nerves that fed straight to the pleasure center of Dean's brain. Waves of goosebumps and shivers moved over him in response. "Oh," he said, suddenly breathless. "Okay." 

Cas left one of these imaginary kisses on Dean's mouth and then on his tongue, which was weird but _good_ weird. He didn't let up, and he could pull this trick in more than one place at a time. A kiss on Dean's sternum, on his hip, on his lower back, all at once. 

"You think you're pretty good," Dean gasped. Cas was smug back at him, letting Dean feel his grace buzzing under his skin in trails of fire. 

Dean could almost feel Cas's fingers on his face, gentle and burning at the same time. Dean definitely didn't whimper, he didn't know what the noise was, it totally wasn't him. 

_**Should I continue?** _

"You better finish what you started, Cas," Dean growled. 

Cas was something like delighted, a rolling wave of warmth inside him. 

Dean had been hard for a while already; it had snuck up on him somewhere in Cas's kiss avalanche. Dean missed looking at Cas so he tried to remember to keep his eyes closed. 

There was a warm tingling around the base of Dean's dick that was probably Cas, and then a sort of all-over squeeze that was definitely Cas. "Oh fuck," Dean gasped. "Do that again." 

Cas inside him was a warm, gentle vibration, and _sex toy_ definitely came to mind, although Dean wasn't sure who, exactly, was the sex toy here. Maybe both of them— that was fine by him. 

And then he felt something warm curling deep inside him, and it was almost really weird, but then Cas put pressure on one tiny place and— 

"HOLY SHIT," Dean shouted, his back arching off the bed. "That was…that was…" 

_**Your prostate,**_ Cas answered, a bit too matter-of-factly. 

Dean whimpered, and raised his hands, but of course there was nothing to touch, so he lowered them and clutched at the bed sheets instead. "Again." 

Cas was very obliging. 

Dean could feel Cas pulsing in his dick, humming in his balls, rubbing steadily across his prostate. Dean's eyes rolled back in his head, but he still kept trying to grab for a body that wasn't there. 

He couldn't return any of this to Cas, and that didn't sit with right with him. _**I don't mind,**_ Cas said, in an attempt to reassure him. _**I am content with this.**_

_Buddy,_ Dean replied, grateful he didn't have to actually speak, _when we get your body back we are going to have so much sex._ Cas gave that a big old stamp of approval, tweaked the nerves in Dean's nipples so he hissed, and also pressed another imaginary kiss to Dean's mouth. 

_**I suppose I could…let me have your arm.** _

"What?" 

But he found out what Cas meant when he realized he no longer had control over his right arm and hand. Cas wrapped his hand around Dean's cock and began to slide it up and down. It was Dean's hand but not Dean touching himself— Cas had access to Dean's mind but still didn't touch Dean in quite the same way he'd touch himself. It was enough of a surprise, of a difference, that it was like being touched by someone else. Being touched by Cas. 

Dean wanted to kiss him more than ever, to wrap his fingers in Cas's dark hair the way he'd thought about so many times before. He opened his eyes and the empty air above him was a shock, so he shut his eyes again, imagining Cas over him, and focusing on the way Cas's warmth now felt like fire, burning him up. 

Cas was holding his hips down somehow, so Dean might struggle to thrust into his fist but only managed whatever movements Cas allowed, driving him crazy, especially because he'd thought about Cas holding him down before. A lot. Cas's assault, inside and out, was relentless, and Dean could feel the familiar pressure building up inside him, balls tightening. 

Dean fisted his other hand in the sheets on the bed he'd wanted Cas in ever since he'd decided it was his. He whimpered as Cas imaginary-licked a line up his stomach and chest. 

_**You're very beautiful,**_ Cas announced. 

_You can't even see me._

_**I can always see you.** _

He thought about warning Cas he was about to come, and then realized Cas must already know. That thought, for whatever reason, was the thing that set him off, and Dean came with a shout of Cas's name, losing himself in the burn of Cas's grace inside him everywhere. 

When Dean's brain restarted, he found Cas had returned control of his right hand to him, the mess on his stomach was already gone, and Cas was a softer kind of buzzing hum inside him. 

"Hey," he said lazily, his mouth struggling to form sounds, and then, stupidly, Dean flailed his arm around until he realized he was looking for Cas. But he wasn't there to be touched, he couldn't be. Dean's heart squeezed cold and sad, and Cas hurried to reassure him, but he was sad, too. 

_What about you? Is there anything I can do for you?_ Dean didn't like how unfair this was. 

_**Stop feeling guilty,**_ Cas said pointedly. _**There's not much you can do for me in this state. And besides,**_ he turned slightly shy, _**that was enough. Watching you, being able to do that for you…that was more than enough.**_

_I'll make it up to you when we get your body back,_ Dean promised. 

_**I'll hold you to that,**_ Cas replied with some sort of full body caress that had Dean closing his eyes in pleasure. 

~ 

They went upstairs when Sam and Claire got back, loaded down with bags of food. Claire hadn't let him down in the edible food department, Dean noted. 

"Cas? Or Dean?" 

Dean smiled. "Guess." 

"Dean," Sam said immediately. "I saw you staring at those Fritos." 

"Then why even ask?" Dean and Sam both rolled their eyes at each other. And then Dean stepped back and let Cas take the wheel. It was getting easier, but he wanted to see if anyone noticed. 

"We had an idea, earlier," Cas said. "About how we can attack Amara without letting her know I'm here." 

_You gave it away!_

"Cas?" Sam looked startled, which was pretty funny, so Dean forgave Cas for blowing it. This time. 

"Dean can retain control over most of himself," Cas explained. "But I can stab her, if I have control of just one arm." 

Sam frowned, trying to picture it, probably. "Huh. How'd you come up with that?" 

Dean was really glad that he'd let Cas be in the driver's seat for this one. They were gonna need that poker face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, that was a lot of coding AO3 didn't like.
> 
> Hello guys, thank you for reading. <3 One chapter left (probably), and I'm really going to try and have it out soon-- because I'm moving to Japan next week, and ihni when I'll be able to finish it if I don't before.


	4. The Lightbringer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Claire please don’t sass Satan.”_

Two days after Cas and Claire came back with the First Blade, Lucifer called.

"Between the First Blade and this Sword of Solomon I found, we should be good. We just need to find Amara."

"And we've haven't heard anything from her in months," Dean said, leaning closer to Sam's phone, which was on speaker. They— Sam and Dean (and Cas) and Crowley— were gathered around the library table.

"Where was the last place you saw her? 'Cause I'm thinking it's time to dangle some tasty human bait to see if she'll bite."

"You mean Dean," Sam said.

"Well, no shit," said Lucifer. "He's the only thing she likes."

There was no way around that nasty problem.

"If I go there," Dean said. "We have to be ready to act right then and there, in case she shows up."

"That is the plan," Lucifer said dryly.

Dean felt tension coiling inside him, and he felt Cas, vibrating with protectiveness.

Dean looked at Sam, who looked wide-eyed but determined. Sam silently asked him if he was ready. Dean nodded that he was. He just wanted to get this over with.

Dean licked his lips. "Tomorrow, then."

"Yip. Ee," Lucifer said in a sort of flat sneer. "Can't wait. Peace out."

Sam reached out and hung up in the resulting silence.

"Where the hell," said Crowley, "did he learn that?"

 _ **He learns these things to torment us,**_ Cas said glumly, and Dean agreed.

Suddenly Cas flared with alarm and before Dean could react, took control of Dean's body. "Claire."

She was standing in the doorway, and she was very still and pale. She swallowed visibly. Sam got to his feet, hovering like he thought he might have to run and catch her. "Claire?"

"So," her voice was shaky and uneven. "That was Lucifer. He…sounded more like my dad than I thought he would." She swallowed again, and looked at Dean— at Cas. "More than you do."

Oh.

"Oh," Cas sighed softly.

Sam shot an anxious glance at him— at them, at Dean and Cas. "I'm so sorry, Claire. We didn't want you to hear that."

"Right. Whatever." She forced herself, in a way Dean recognized much too well, a way that made him ache, to take a few more steps into the room. "So what's the plan? We're doing this tomorrow, or what?"

The fight that followed was only saved from being truly epic because both Dean and Cas couldn't shout at the same time.

~

Dean eyed up the hot dog vendor, but he was kind of creeped by it now. The park wasn't busy today like the last time he'd been here; it was raining, and cold, and Dean was glad there weren't any innocent bystanders. On the other hand, there wasn't much of a way for the rest of the team to mix in and hide themselves.

He felt a trickle of amusement from Cas, who was supposed to be keeping his head down.

_What?_

_**It's been a long time since we met in a park, that's all.** _

_Yeah, well,_ Dean thought, as another gust blew a bunch of verging-on-hail rain into his face, _that's because hanging out at home is way better._

After a while, Dean sat on a bench. _"AMARA,"_ he thought, as loud— or hard— as he could. He even tried praying.

After another freezing hour, after even the hot dog guy had packed up and gone home, when Dean was really, really wet, he stood up and shouted "Amara!" until his throat burned.

Two minutes later, Lucifer said, "Do you even know what you're doing?" He was dry and looked perfectly comfortable.

"No," Dean snapped, "I don't. I haven't ever actually summoned her before, you know."

Dean and Lucifer glared at each other, and Dean could feel Cas glaring at him too. Finally Sam and Crowley wandered up. Crowley was dry like Lucifer, but Sam looked as wet and miserable as Dean felt. Lucifer looked at Crowley and a moment later the demon was as wet as the humans.

Cas hummed with amusement and Dean had to bite back a smile. Crowley looked like he was looking for someone to stab, but he kept his head down in Lucifer's presence.

Claire came trudging up, umbrella bobbing above her, which she was 100% under no circumstances supposed to do. "What the hell's going on?" she asked. She looked right at Lucifer, and it was brave as fuck, but Dean was going to kill her.

"You're supposed to be in the car," he snapped.

"And you're supposed to be killing something, but here we are," she answered right back.

Cas's exasperation matched his own, but for whatever reason he wasn't taking over or trying to.

"I guess we're all a lot of disappointments," Lucifer drawled. 

"Yeah," Claire said, and Cas flashed alarm at him but Dean couldn't react fast enough to stop her from saying "but _your_ dad's the only one who's still around to care that you're a giant fuck-up."

There was an angel blade in Dean's hand, and he realized Cas had taken over, ready to throw them in front of Claire if necessary.

Lucifer stared at her. Even Crowley looked impressed, Dean noted distantly.

Then Lucifer laughed. "I like you," he said.

 _"Claire,"_ Sam hissed, shuffling until he was next to her. He wrapped a giant moose arm around her shoulders and used it to tuck her behind him. "Claire _please don't sass Satan._ "

Lucifer was looking at Claire, considering. "You're also Castiel's true vessel," he said. "So…you must know this vessel."

Claire raised her chin. "No," she said, such an obvious, trembling lie, like a four year old caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"That's enough," Cas said, sharply. "If the Darkness isn't going to show, we have no further business here."

Lucifer gave them all a knowing smile. "Yeah," he said, "I'm declaring this a bust. We'll have to think of something else. Some kind of summoning, maybe. Toodles." He vanished as soon as he finished speaking, and Dean felt a little nostalgic for the way Cas used to do that, as infuriating as it was at the time.

With a little burst of an apology, Dean was suddenly warm and dry. _**When I was human I came to dislike being in rain very intensely,**_ Cas said.

Dean sent him some gratitude as Cas withdrew, and Dean turned to Claire. "What. The. Fuck. Were you thinking?"

Claire didn't even respond to him, just glared at the place Lucifer had been. "CLAIRE!"

"Whatever. You do that shit all the time."

 _ **She's not wrong,**_ Cas observed.

"That's, like strategic!" Dean protested.

He received unimpressed bitchiness from everyone.

Dean noticed Crowley had also dried himself as soon as Lucifer was gone, which left Sam the only cold, wet asshole. And Sam knew it— he glared at them. "I'm going to the car. We can all yell at each other on the way home."

~~

Sam was fine, really, or at least holding it together pretty well, considering he'd rather face down an army of clowns than hang out with Lucifer. Lucifer knew it, of course, and texted him several times a day. Just to be a dick.

**This demon's annoying me should I cut off her head or flambé her?**

**I did both!** (with the skull and flame emojis)

 **I wanted to get a twitter but all the good names are taken** (with a frowning demon emoji)

**Are any of these republican candidates humans? Srsly have you looked into this**

**WTF is siri????**

Sam never responded and deleted them as soon as they arrived, but Lucifer apparently didn't need validation.

**Can you explain sexting? ;)**

Sam turned off his phone after that. It was the ;) that did him in. He'd caught himself pressing on his hand like during the Lucifer hallucination period. Luckily Dean hadn't noticed it yet.

Dean was apparently not having any trouble sleeping— or Cas just made him sleep, Sam was in favor of it either way— but he often ran into Claire when they were both wandering around at odd hours of the night.

"Is it always like this?" she asked him, eyes red, hands wrapped around a mug of hot milk.

"For the last 8 years or so, yeah. Maybe 9?"

"Great."

"I keep telling myself it doesn't have to be, though. I used to want a normal life, or what I thought was a normal life. But now…well, who decides what normal is, anyway? I think we can hunt and still have family and friends. Love even, if you meet the right person."

"But what's the point? Everyone dies or…" she shrugged. _Everyone dies_ was probably enough.

"You gotta take happiness when you can," Sam said firmly. "It keeps you going through sh— stuff like this."

"But you just said it's _always_ shit like this. I do know the word 'shit', Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes, at her, at himself. "You've got to have hope. What else are we fighting for?"

"Blah," said Claire, and Sam had to bite back a smile, again, at how similar Claire and Dean were. "Do you think this plan will work?" she asked, muted again.

"I think we'll figure something out," Sam said. "We always have."

Claire accepted this— or at least nodded. "Well, I guess Cas and Dean are finally working out their shit or whatever. Trapped in the same body. You can't really hide things like that."

Sam snorted. "Maybe. I hope so, but Dean is the master of denying his feelings. And refusing to talk about things. Seriously good at that." He hesitated, watching her closely, before deciding he might as well bring it up. "So…Dean and Cas. You know?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I know they're twitterpated dorks, yeah."

"Are you…okay with it? If something…I mean, if they do—"

Claire made a face and shrugged. "I mean, not that I want to think about it, because ew, but…whatever. He's not my dad. I know he thinks he should act like it, and…I dunno, I don't mind that that much anymore. I wouldn't stand in his way. Especially not with Dean. I mean, I've been his vessel, I know what he feels, and…it's terrifying." Claire rubbed at a scuff mark on the table. "I wouldn't want to feel that. Even the first time I was the vessel, it was like Dean was the sun and everything else was just…glitter."

"Wow," Sam said.

"Shut up! I'm not good at this. I don't think I even really understand it. But I'm definitely not going to freak out because they're dudes." She finally looked at Sam again, sharp and suspicious. "I wouldn't care about anyone else and I figure if he's an angel, then…" she shrugged again.

Once Sam parsed all the teenager speak, he thought she'd given them her blessing. "You ever gonna tell them that?"

"Oh my god no, of course not." Claire rolled her eyes, and drained the last of the now-cold milk from her mug. "Anyway, I'm done with awkward midnight chats, so I'm going to bed."

"Good. Get some sleep, Claire. Night." Sam was actually feeling a bit better himself, and headed to bed soon after.

~~

The diner where they'd killed Death— which had been kind of a dick move, oops— looked untouched. The grass around it, on the other hand, was all dead and laid out flat in a complicated crop circle. Dean was pretty sure that hadn't been there when they'd left, but he was kind of busy at the time, so who knew.

"Amara," he said quietly. "I brought you a gift."

He felt her before he saw her, which he was almost used to. The world went strange, and quiet— and he hadn't thought it was loud before. He thought about Amara, and about the First Blade back in his hand.

It was like dreaming, watching himself do and say things he had no real control over. Like being a demon, knowing that it was and wasn't you at the same time. No one else in there, just you.

"Dean."

She was in front of him suddenly. Her rapid aging had definitely stopped. Half of him rebelled, revolted, when he saw her, desperate to get away. But it wasn't the half in control. It never was.

"Amara," he said. Swallowed. "I thought about what you said. Your offer."

She took a few gliding steps nearer. Everything felt just a little bit slower than it should be. "It's not an offer," she said. "It's fate. Destiny."

Oh, he'd heard that line before.

"I know," he said. "I know, now."

She raised her eyebrows, actually looking a little excited. "You've come to join me?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yes." He took a few steps toward her— she generally allowed him to move if it brought him closer, if he did what she wanted. "I brought you a gift." He raised his arms, the First Blade laying on them, an offering.

She looked at it curiously. "The Blade of Cain."

"Yes," he said, all agreeableness. "It's what brought us together."

She liked that. Amara smiled, and walked close to him. He'd thought facing Lucifer and Michael was bad, but Amara was so much power it altered the way the air felt.

Dean felt numb, physically, and underneath that a little panicky, his heart going too fast. He hated not being able to move. Amara lifted a hand, traced along the teeth. "Quaint. Thank you, Dean."

She looked up into his eyes. He'd always found her eyes intense but essentially empty, and he swore he could see the void behind them. "You don't bear the Mark of Cain anymore, though," she noted.

"No," he said, willing her not to look away from his face, "but you do."

She reached up, touched his face. "You're so…bright," she said. "Even for you."

He leaned towards her, towards her mouth, and she kissed him. He kissed her back, emptying his head.

He hadn't noticed his hand making a fist around what passed for the First Blade's handle— he couldn't feel it, because he wasn't the one making the fist. 

Dean _did_ notice his arm come up and he pulled back, quick, ripping away from her enough to give his arm some clearance.

Cas plunged the First Blade into Amara's chest, right through the mark.

Dean tried to step back and couldn't; Cas took him over in an instant, and managed to stagger backwards.

Amara was staring at the Blade jutting out of her. "What did you do?" she said, wondering. She looked up at Dean— at Dean and Cas. "I remember you," she said. "Small little angel. I _spared_ you."

Cas took them a few more steps back. It was getting easier. "This is mine," Cas said. "This human, this planet, humanity— I fight for them."

"Do you know what will happen if I pull this out?" she raised her hand toward the First Blade but didn't actually touch it.

Cas could see she was greatly weakened, but not down. He shook his head.

"Dean," Amara frowned. She seemed nearly as frozen as Dean always had been in her presence. "This is destiny."

"Yeahhhhhhhhhh," Lucifer said from behind Amara. "They _really_ don't care about that. Trust me."

He swung his Sword of Solomon straight through her neck. There was a sound like galaxies tearing. Dean remembered being hit by a semi truck; this was like being hit by a semi the size of Galactus. Dean and Cas couldn't stay on their feet, and Dean was pretty sure his ear drums weren't ruptured only because of Cas's grace. It was possible his brain would have boiled without Cas's grace. He hoped Sam and Claire were far enough away they were okay.

And then everything went dark, like a lid was put on it, and Dean had a second of panic— a second of reassurance from Cas— and a second to realize Cas was putting him on lockdown before he was asleep.

~~

Sam was pretty sure he had a concussion. He was pretty sure he had two black eyes, too, because he'd been looking through binoculars when the concussion wave hit.

No time to worry about that now. Sam picked up the binoculars and held them up, but both lenses were cracked. He let them drop. He took the gun out of his pocket and checked to make sure it would still work. He checked the clip, full of bullets made from melted-down angel blade. Then he took the box of matches out of his pocket. The timing on this part was critical.

Sam staggered to his feet, the world spinning around him, little lights flashing in his vision. He had to see what was going on.

~~

Dean was safe, tucked away in sleep. Amara was still, technically, on her feet. Her head was just also on the ground. "Is she…what is she?" Cas could see she wasn't dead, but she had stopped drawing power to herself. 

Lucifer was walking around, studying the problem. "I think…" he said, "…that you should run, little brother. Fast."

Cas did not hesitate. He turned and ran, as fast as he could move without wings. Dean's body moving around him was not unpleasant, but he had no time to appreciate it. He ran in the direction of the Impala, and as soon as he crossed an invisible line, Sam and Crowley would set alight a huge ring of holy oil.

He turned around when he spotted one of their hidden markers, and watched Lucifer pull the First Blade out of Amara.

The wound did not bleed. It gushed out rolling clouds of black smoke, not a demon, but something much more massive, a black hole in reverse. The Darkness, loose and frustrated without a vessel. Lucifer was chanting— Cas couldn't hear the words, but he could feel them, echoing in the ether. He could feel all the angels in Heaven focusing their attention here. He heard them joining in the chant, lending their strength.

Finally, Cas joined in too, using his true voice. The Sword in Lucifer's hand began to glow. 

The Darkness escaped from Amara, and the headless body finally collapsed. 

The Sword of Solomon burned with Heavenly fire, fully charged, and Lucifer, the Light Bringer, the Morning Star, hurled it into the looming cloud of the Darkness.

The worlds shattered, and even Cas had to look away, not just to protect Dean's eyes, but his own. The cosmic wind continued to pull at him, sucking in pieces of this world. The music of the spheres was discordant, howling.

When Cas could see again— it took some time for the burning spots to clear— he saw Lucifer standing in the center of a circle of burning holy oil, wind whipping at him.

"Seriously?" he shouted.

~~

Claire just had to wait, and wait and wait, but after all the crazy sound and fury she only had to watch and make sure the entire circle of holy oil was on fire.

"Now!" Crowley came running at her, huffing and puffing. "Do it now!"

Claire raised the knife that felt like it had been in her hand for hours and drew it across her palm. She slapped her hand on the hood of the Impala, painted with an angel banishing sigil in blood.

~~

Expelled from their vessels, Castiel and Lucifer hurtled toward the rift, and Castiel knew that without his wings he had no way of escaping. Lucifer was straining against it mightily and barely keeping in place.

Castiel would be sucked out of this world with the Darkness.

He thought regretfully, of Dean, and then of Claire and Sam. The family he'd gained only to leave it behind.

The cosmic rift, growing narrower and narrower, sealed itself a fraction of a nanosecond before Castiel entered it. And then he smashed into the scab.


	5. Home, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There was no other option. There wasn't. Cas always came back to him._

Dean woke up and it was painful as fuck.

"Dean!" The too-loud noises resolved themselves in his aching head as Sam's voice.

"Mmmmrrrrrrrrmmmmm," Dean said.

Sam crashed down onto his knees next to Dean. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where does it hurt?"

Dean pushed at whatever piece of Sam his hand reached first, which happened to be his jaw. "Gi'fff me."

Sam helped Dean sit up, and the way the world spun was pretty alarming, but nothing Dean hadn't seen before. For a moment, he thought he'd throw up all over himself, but it turned out he actually hadn't eaten in a while, so there wasn't much to come up. He felt like he'd gone sixteen rounds with Bobby's car wrecker and lost every one.

Dean didn't actually look injured, though, when his eyes focused enough to see himself. Nothing bleeding, nothing—

"Anything broken?" Sam asked.

"Don' think so," Dean said. "Help me up."

Sam was reluctant, but helped when Dean started trying to stand on his own. Truth was, he couldn't have made it to his feet without Sam doing all the heavy lifting and balancing.

"What happened?" Dean asked. "Cas put me to sleep for the big showdown."

"Cas is gone?" Sam asked.

Dean searched, looking for any hint of the warm buzzing glow he'd gotten used to. It was gone. Cas was gone. He'd expected it, but Dean still felt empty and cold and sick with worry. "Yeah," he said roughly. "All alone in here."

Sam looked sympathetic, and also like a Talk About Feelings was somewhere in the future. Dean looked over Sam's shoulder, and saw something that made his heart stop. "Sam."

"Yeah, let's go check it out," Sam sighed. Sam had to do most of the walking for them. Laying in the middle of a circle of scorched black earth was Cas— his vessel, anyway. 

Dean dropped to his knees— it was more of a controlled fall— and touched Cas's— Jimmy's?— face. Warm, but everything around here was burnt. He tried to take a pulse, but his fingers were shaking. "Sam."

Sam moved to the other side and quickly checked his neck, then his wrist. Dean knew what the answer was from the way Sam laid down the wrist, and he looked away before he had to see Sam shake his head.

"What does this mean?" Dean asked. It came out small and plaintive, and he wasn't even really asking Sam. Not that there was anyone else to talk to.

"I don't know," Sam said, quiet. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"We're bringing him back," Dean said. "Cas'll need his vessel when he finds his way home." Cas was always going to be banished by the sigil. It was part of the plan.

There was no other option. There wasn't. Cas always came back to him.

"Let's find Claire," Dean said.

Dean was shaking with exhaustion by the time he saw the welcome shape of his Baby. Claire was leaning against the hood, and he was surprised to see Crowley was there, too. He'd figured the demon would take off as soon as he could.

"Butts off the paint job," Dean barked when they got close enough he wouldn't have to strain his voice. Crowley and Claire both rolled their eyes but stood up. 

"Still alive, then?" Crowley said.

"What exactly happened after we— after Cas stabbed Amara?"

"Lucifer cut off her head. That was fun," Crowley said. 

"Did get Lucifer get sucked away with the Darkness?" Sam asked.

"Not at all," Crowley said. "He did vanish, though, and took the First Blade with him, as far as I can tell."

"Well, that sounds like great news that's not at all going to come back and bite us in the ass," Dean said. He dragged himself around to the driver's side. "Crowley, go with Sam."

"What?"

He sent Sam a look. Sam, to his credit, didn't bitch or sigh, but went and got a blanket out of the trunk.

Claire sat in the passenger seat while they waited for the others to come back. She didn't say anything.

"He always comes back," Dean said. Claire said nothing.

~

There wasn't anything wrong with him a lot of rest didn't cure, and Dean spent a lot of time in Cas's room, waiting. Their biggest problem was what to do with the vessel: it was dead, and in the end Dean buried it. No salt, no burning. Claire had watched, but as far as Dean knew, they'd kept the vessel wrapped in a blanket the whole time. 

Claire stayed with them, because as Cas's last remaining true vessel, it might be easier for Cas to find his way home if he could follow her.

"What if he's in heaven?" Dean said to Sam late one night, a week later. "What if they're got him locked up? You know the kind of shit they've done to him before."

Sam frowned. "We'll wait a little longer, okay? There are…ways of talking to our people in heaven."

Dean stared at him. "You mean like…"

"Bobby," Sam said apologetically.

Dean grunted and went back to his vigil.

~~

"I kind of promised I wouldn't do this," a voice said. It was familiar, even if Castiel couldn't place it right away. "Buuuuuut…if this is the last time— and it will be the last time, Castiel— I think it's okay. It's fair. How often do things get to be fair?"

Castiel tried to speak, but couldn't; he tried to move, but he couldn't do that either. For some reason, though, he wasn't alarmed by this. He was safe. He was the safest he'd ever been.

"I didn't just drop the ball on this; I want you to know that. I knew you guys could do it, if anyone could. I know this doesn't really make up for all the other stuff," the voice continued, "but I'm real proud of you, kid. You done good. Now keep doing good."

~

Castiel woke up.

It was disconcerting to wake up standing on your feet. Even for an angel. Maybe especially for an angel, because in general, angels never expected to wake up.

He also expected to have been pulverized into a trillion pieces by slamming into a metaphysical scar covering the rift between dimensions. In fact, he remembered that happening. It wasn't the first time he'd been blown up, of course: it seemed to happen with somewhat alarming frequency.

Castiel squinted around himself; his usual angelic senses weren't working quite as well as they should have been. He was in one piece (as much as a multi-cellular organism made of a vast number of atoms could be one piece), but his powers, perhaps, were not.

The sun was just rising. The area looked familiar, and Castiel walked forward. He was behind the bunker, and in the wave of relief that accompanied that revelation, he vaguely remembered a stop in between being blown to bits and standing on the grass. He remembered a voice.

Oh.

Castiel walked up to the door and found the key in his pocket. He was, in fact, dressed in Jimmy's original clothes, the blue suit and the long trench coat he'd had to abandon when he became human.

He opened the door and tried to walk down the stairs without letting them groan and creak. The kitchen was still dark and empty so Castiel went straight to the bedrooms. Dean's bedroom was empty, and Castiel was suddenly worried that no one was home.

No, that wasn't right. Crowley was here— or at least, something demonic was, and Crowley was the most likely candidate. Claire was here, too. Cas could feel a little tug of his grace toward her.

He could feel another little tug too, from another piece of grace left behind. Castiel followed that tug to the room that had been given to him, and he eased open the door.

Dean was asleep, half on, half off the bed. Castiel walked over silently and sat beside him. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder, feeling his grace call to him like it had when he'd first resurrected Dean. It was stronger now, though, purer. Not because there was more grace, but, Cas thought, because Dean wanted it there.

He shook Dean's shoulder gently, and Dean startled awake. He blinked, shocked, at Castiel.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean made a strangled noise and grabbed Cas into a fierce hug. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean in response, and closed his eyes. He leaned his head against Dean's. "I am very glad to be home," he sighed.

Dean's hands gripped tighter, then he pulled back and gave Cas a little shake. "Two weeks!"

"Really? I'm sorry," Castiel said. "I wasn't…it wasn't up to me."

Dean sighed, and pulled him in for a hug again. Castiel was more than willing to go.

"Are you…okay?" Dean asked. "Not hurt? Not dying? Not being chased by a rabid pack of werepires?"

"I am fully restored, well, and you know there are no such things as werepires."

"Fully restored? What does that mean?" Dean pulled back again, rather to Castiel's disappointment, and examined Cas closely. He jumped when he noticed the coat. "Cas…your coat came back!"

"I…believe it was a gift."

"From who?"

"Dean, I should be dead." He explained about almost being sucked out with the Darkness, about smashing into the rift scar. That Lucifer probably got away, and Dean added that they thought he'd taken the First Blade with him. "He was…angry," Castiel added.

"Great," Dean sighed. "Always something, isn't it?"

Cas nodded. "But Dean, I woke up— and I shouldn't have." Dean looked pale and his hands tightened on Cas's arms. "I… believe it was God," Cas was suddenly shy, even though he was quite certain about who he'd been with, even if he had no idea where he'd been.

"You saw God?" Dean asked. With anyone else he might have been skeptical or scoffing; with Cas he was awed.

"Not exactly," Cas admitted. "But He spoke to me. I heard the voice of God." Castiel smiled a little.

"Wow. Okay. And what did he have to say for himself?"

"That this would be the last time, but it was fair. That…He was proud of me," Castiel had to whisper the words. "And to keep doing good."

Dean broke into a wide, slow grin. "So he told you to keep saving people and hunting things?"

"That's the gist of it, yes."

They were both smiling at each other, and Dean put his hands on the sides of Castiel's face and kissed him. 

Castiel kissed him back, eager for real, non-trick kisses. He wrapped a hand in Dean's shirt and one in his hair, pulling him closer, closer, never close enough.

Dean moaned and opened his mouth, which Castiel took full advantage of. He tasted Dean's tongue, his teeth, his hard palette. He would never get enough of this, never. He pushed, pushing Dean back and down, and…

…They fell off the bed.

It was quite a loud thump and rather jarring, but now Cas was on top of Dean, so it didn't seem like a bad situation. He wiggled up, making Dean gasp, and set his mouth to Dean's neck.

"Oh man, Cas, buddy I—I hate to say this, but I think I'm too old to do this on the floor. Plus," Dean's voice turned a lot less breathy, "when was the last time you vacuumed in here, man?"

"Vacuum?" 

"Of course," Dean muttered under his breath. Cas didn't want to talk about vacuums, he wanted to kiss Dean. He pulled Dean's face back to his. Dean kissed him back for a moment, but then pushed him away, laughing. "Come on, Casanova. Find a bed. There's one right here."

Because Dean insisted, they stood up, and then Dean looked at the bed in Castiel's room with a face that Cas knew meant nothing good for him. "When was the last time—"

"We could go to your bed," Cas said.

Dean's eyes darkened either further and his licked his lips. "Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, let's do that."

Dean grabbed Castiel's wrist and pulled. Castiel twisted and moved his hand until their palms were locked together, fingers intertwined. It was surprising, how strong a reaction he had to that, to something as deceptively simple as touching Dean's hand with his.

They moved silently down the hall, as if they were hunting, and slipped into Dean's room. Before Dean even had the door fully closed, Castiel was pushing him up against it. Dean was wide-eyed and breathless, and even in the dim lighting Castiel could see how he was shining. Dean fisted his hands in Castiel's restored coat as he kissed him, and Cas pressed his body against Dean's, trapping him against the door. 

Dean made a soft, pleading noise into Castiel's mouth and rolled his hips against Castiel's.

Castiel contemplated picking Dean up and pinning him to the door but decided to save that for later. Instead he pulled Dean away from the door, spinning them around, and pushed Dean toward the bed.

"Where do you get all this stuff?" Dean demanded.

"Your head, mostly," Cas admitted.

Dean gaped at him. "Well," he said, and shrugged off his over shirt. "Guess I can't complain."

In Castiel's experience Dean could complain about anything at any time, but he decided against saying that anytime soon. He began to take off his new coat, and Dean went still to watch him.

"Sometime," Dean said, licking his lips, "you are going to leave the coat on. But not right now."

"Do you have a fetish for this coat?"

Dean went bright red. "What? No. Of course not!"

"I thought the coat was a gift to me," Castiel said, "but perhaps it was a gift to _you._ "

Dean became even more emphatic and flustered. "We are not having this conversation," he said. "Ever."

Cas cheated and moved very quickly, took Dean by surprise, and pushed him down onto the bed. He climbed on top of Dean, straddling him.

"Cas," Dean said, "you didn't take off your pants, man, that's like Sex One-oh—"

Castiel cut him off and shut him up with his new preferred method of doing so. Dean looked dazed when Castiel pulled back so Dean could breathe. Cas kissed Dean's eyes, his forehead, cheekbones, down his jaw. Stubble against his lips was an electrifying sensation, and he nipped lightly at the turn of Dean's jaw. Dean's hips thrust up in reaction, so Cas did it again, and again.

Dean tilted his head, exposing his neck so Castiel could kiss where he wanted to. "Cas, Cas," he sighed, and ran his fingers through Castiel's hair. That was also unexpectedly nice. "Cas, man, seriously, pants. Off."

Cas grumbled and shoved his hands under Dean's t-shirt, which he had more interest in removing right now. Dean did help with this, although they nearly clunked heads when he sat up suddenly. Castiel could not focus on anything else once he had Dean's chest revealed to him. He pushed Dean back down and drew reverent fingers over the tattoo, around his pecs, and down his stomach, resting them at the button on Dean's fly.

"Need some help?" Dean asked when Cas made no move to undue the jeans. But Castiel was considering his rather erratic powers— he thought they might work for this, misuse of them though it was. He vanished all the rest of their clothes.

"Whoa, okay," Dean jumped. "That was weird. Handy, though." Dean was looking him up and down with greedy eyes. "Come 'ere."

He pulled Cas into a kiss, taking Cas down with him as he laid back. Now all their skin was touching, and Dean was right, this had been missing from the times they'd fooled around before. Humans— human bodies— were meant to be skin-to-skin like this. Cas heard himself moan, surprised, and Dean pulled him even closer. His mouth and his hands were both hungry as they roamed over Castiel, and Cas did his best to keep up.

"Hey," Dean whispered, breathless and sweating, which Cas decided he liked very much. "I owe you something."

"You don't," Castiel said, pressing a kiss to Dean's ear. "I told you—"

"And I told you, I _do._ " Dean pushed at him, so Cas allowed Dean to roll them over. Dean sat up and seemed to be taking a good look. Castiel knew, now, that Dean had spent a lot of time imaging this. Sometimes even _hoping._ Those were things Castiel had never dared. As in so many things, he needed Dean to show him the way.

Dean finally leaned over and kissed Cas. He kissed down his neck, his chest, stopping to flick his tongue across his nipples, making Castiel squirm. He nibbled down his sides, letting his fingers and then his tongue trace the lines of text of Castiel's tattoo, which had reappeared along with the rest of him. Dean spent a considerable amount of time licking across Castiel's hips. Castiel squirmed, but when Dean put an arm across his hips, Cas understood that Dean wanted him to hold still, and did his best to keep his hips, at least, from thrusting up too much.

Dean licked a broad, unexpected stripe up the underside of Cas's cock, and Cas lost the battle to keep his hips still. Dean sucked the head into his mouth, and everything was wet and heat and good. 

Dean worked him over with mouth and hand, and every instant Cas felt impossibly better and better. Dean took Castiel's balls in a gentle hand and teased them with his fingers. Castiel's body was doing all kinds of things he didn't have control over, and felt the building of pressure that he recognized from when he was human. 

"Dean," he said urgently, but it only made Dean suck harder, move his head faster, and send a careful exploratory finger behind Cas's balls. It was not a place Cas had ever given much thought to before, but he sure as hell noticed it now.

Cas came suddenly, without being able to give any further warning. Dean kept his mouth and hand around him the whole time, and when Castiel finally made his eyelids flutter open, Dean was watching him closely, head on Castiel's stomach. 

"Come _here,_ " Cas insisted, and pulled at Dean's shoulder until Dean's mouth was in reach. When Castiel kissed him, he could taste himself in Dean's mouth, and this caused a surprisingly deep sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.

Dean's own cock was still hard and wet between them, and Dean couldn't stop himself from thrusting against Castiel's belly. Cas slipped a hand between them and wrapped it around Dean's length. Dean groaned into Castiel's neck and a few quick thrusts later he came all over both their stomachs.

"Oh," Cas frowned. "I wanted to use my mouth on you, too."

Dean huffed a laugh into Cas's neck. "Next time, buddy. Be my guest." He rolled off, although Castiel wished he wouldn't. It's not like Dean was crushing him.

"How do you feel?" Dean asked, voice muffled because his face was smashed into the pillow. 

"Very, very good," Castiel said.

Dean laughed. His smile stayed even when he stopped laughing. "'S good, Cas. I'm glad. And…you're still an angel? I mean, you still have your grace and it's okay and you're not gonna fall or something, are you? Nothing's killing you you forgot to mention?"

Cas kicked him. "No," he said, while Dean struggled to kick him back. "I'm…not sure I'm really an angel, actually." 

Dean propped himself up on an arm to look at Cas. "Okay, what does that mean?"

"I'm not as strong as I once was, and I don't think I ever will be. My wings are still gone, and the heavenly host is…quiet in my head. I can still feel them—" it wasn't that awful empty silence of being human— "but not hear them."

"Huh," Dean said.

Castiel could feel Dean trying to decide what to say. "I think this is for the best," Cas said. "If I was fully restored, I would feel obliged to help them."

"And you don't?" Dean perked up.

Cas pursed his lips. "If anyone comes to me for aid, I would not, of course, refuse them. But I feel no particular need to involve myself in angelic affairs."

Dean sighed, flopping down. "Thank god. I guess. Ha."

He sat up and made a face at their stomachs and chests still being covered in come. Dean grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and cleaned them both off. Castiel could have done it, of course, but he'd observed that Dean liked to care for people in physical ways.

Dean made him get under the covers and Castiel had to admit that this was very nice, being in a warm, soft space with Dean. Especially once Dean wrapped an arm around Castiel's waist and they gradually moved together until their limbs were entwined. 

"You don't have to sleep, right?" Dean asked, face pressed to Castiel's shoulder. Castiel confirmed he did not. "Don't feel like you have to stay while I grab a few."

Castiel said "I don't mind—" and cut himself off.

Dean snorted. "You might as well say it, we both know you're gonna do it."

Castiel smiled into Dean's hair. "I'll watch over you," he said. "If you don't mind?"

"Not so much anymore," Dean yawned.

Castiel let Dean sleep then, and he stayed to watch over him until Dean woke again.

~~

"Guess I'll head back to Jody's soon," Claire said. It had been a few days since Castiel had shown up in the middle of the night and then he and Dean hadn't told anyone for like five hours. She would ask what that was about but Claire _knew_ what that was about. They were so dumb. They were also really, really happy, and it was pretty gross. And a little nice.

She watched Dean and Cas exchange a slightly less gooey look than usual.

"Well, we were talking," Dean said. "And…you don't need to be in any rush, you know?"

"Claire," Cas said, with his usual over-earnestness, "you're welcome to stay here. If you want."

"I know Jody's awesome," Dean said, "and we know you probably want to stay with her. But..it's an option. We would've offered last year, but…figured you probably didn't want anything to do with us. And I wasn't exactly safe to be around."

She would have told them to go to Hell (go back to Hell?) last year, that was for sure. Half the time she still wanted to tell them that, but it was kind of less heartfelt now.

"I…thanks, I guess," she said. "But I think I need to go back. Jody's real anxious, and…" she bit her lip. She didn't know what to say, wasn't even too sure herself what she was feeling or why. But it was time to go. "I dunno, maybe you guys need some time alone." She smirked at them, and they both got really awkward, which was pretty hilarious. 

~

Claire let them all hug her goodbye. The day before, they'd taken her to get an anti-possession tattoo, and then Cas had done something briefly painful to her ribs. "You will have to be very careful," he'd told her, all big, serious, worried eyes. "Lucifer knows who you are, now."

Cas clung extra-tight, until Dean tapped him on the shoulder to make him let her go. "He's not great at hugs," Dean teased.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Doof," she said. "I'll be back. Someone needs to keep you guys in line." 

They all smiled, happy with that. Claire got back in her crappy car, waved at Dean and Cas and Sam standing in front of their weird little hobbit door, and she drove off, headed vaguely north.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyy it's finished! I hope you all enjoyed reading it. Thank you so much to everyone who left comments and kudos. They really kept me going when I was struggling and reconsidering my life choices. :p I love you all.


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